


Courtship

by spicygenou



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 14:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10362483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicygenou/pseuds/spicygenou
Summary: Omega Prince Alfred and Alpha Prince Ivan are wed to solidify a trade agreement between their kingdoms. They instantly clash, but the relationship soon evolves into one of respect, not domination, of love, not lust.AKA it's an A/B/O rusame fic without any of the sexy stuff. Background (v minor) CanUkr and FRUK.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note: mentions of rape and abortion (past); minor character death

There were many things wrong with his promised omega, the young Prince had been told. He assured the foreign dignitaries that he didn’t mind in the least.

“Are you sure, Lord Ivan?” an elderly woman asked him. “In addition to his very alpha-like temper, he’s lazy, old, and unable to give birth.”

“It is no bother. This is nothing more than a strategic alliance. The fact that he cannot give birth is perhaps just as well; my people would be loath to trust a half-American child as their future ruler. More likely than not, my younger sister’s first son will take over, that or a trusted advisor that I name, upon my death.”

“I see,” she replied, seeming dissatisfied. “Very well. Both he and his brother will arrive with the Emperors within ten weeks. This will give both the young princes the chance to meet their future spouses.”

“That sounds acceptable,” he responded. Next to him, his father had remained silent, trusting his eldest son’s judgment on the matter.

“I’m sure you’ll find Prince Matthew very much to your tastes, Lady Ekaterina,” a quieter man spoke. “He is a kind alpha, very gentle.”

Ivan’s elder sister smiled kindly. “Thank you, I look forward to meeting him.”

They exchanged pleasantries and well wishes for a few more minutes before the representatives left, beginning their overseas journey to report to the royal family of America.

Ivan turned to his father. “They’re rather hard on the omega prince, aren’t they?”

“What do you mean?” he responded.

“Well, first, going on about how old he is: he’s only twenty-four. I’m three years his senior.”

“I suppose they marry younger in America. If _they_ think he’s a poor omega, though, I’m not sure how well he’ll manage here. They’re a bit more liberal, you know, when it comes to that gender. Surely he acts like an alpha because of their strange views,” he hummed. “Alphas should be strong, protectors, and omegas should be comforters, timid and submissive.”

“Of course, father,” Ivan responded robotically.

“It’s no wonder, what with them being birthed by two Beta kings. No luck could’ve come from such a union. Both their country and their children are plagued because of that cursed match.”

“It’s hardly that dramatic, Peter,” his wife, the queen, rolled her eyes. “We’ll judge them when we actually meet them, how about that? Are you two excited? My babies are finally getting married!”

“I am excited to travel to this new land,” Ekaterina replied. She was the eldest, though as a woman, and an omega at that, she could never hope to rule. She hardly minded, as she didn’t have the temperament for it. “I hope everyone visits me often.”

“Well,” the king huffed. “We’ll see. Depends on if this trade deal actually turns out well.”

“I’m sure it will,” Ivan replied. As the eldest son and thus next in line to rule, he often sat in on political meetings, so he’d been present when the deal was proposed. The double marriage marked the beginning of a new route of commerce. After allying with America who ruled the seas with her impressive navy, Russ would be able to explore and trade more openly. In exchange for protection on the seas, America would receive precious energy in the form of oil and coal from Russ’s heart. Plus, it was no secret that many western nations saw Russ as barbaric and thus refused to deal with them. America’s sphere of influence was powerful as well as ever-expanding, and Russ could use that to their advantage, learning from them and sparking a dialogue on culture. King Peter thought they had drawn the short end of the stick, but in Ivan’s opinion, they’d lucked out. America had been the one to propose the deal, and he was surprised they hadn’t opened with a more disagreeable deal in order to work something out more in their favor.

In the months following the initial proposal, however, they’d been visited by a number of Americans, including the Emperors themselves, Arthur and Francis. During that time, Ivan had learned more about the national mentality and just how different it was from Russ’s own. After meeting the rulers who bickered in public, made no efforts to hide their emotions and affections, and were brutally candid when speaking of both enemies and allies, he didn’t believe them capable of duplicitous dealings.

Of course, he remained somewhat cautious. So when, two months after his final approval of the union, he met the omega in question, he was guarded. He was already a bit callous, according to his peers, so he was sure he seemed rather cold to the man, but he hardly minded.

The omega was named Alfred, a fact he’d learned long before. His elder brother, then, was Matthew. They were nearly identical in appearance, Ivan knew them to be twins. There were subtle differences, however, in the eyes and in their airs. As both the dignitaries and his own informants had revealed, despite their gender statuses, Alfred and Matthew seemed to defy their assignments. They played their parts well at the dinner, however, with Alfred smiling sweetly and deferring everything to his social superiors while Matthew sought to speak often, making direct—yet still respectful—eye contact with King Peter.

While the parents went to talk about the weddings, they let the future spouses get to know each other better with attendants nearby, as was proper. Ivan chose to take Alfred to one of his favorite drawing rooms, and they sat down for a small snack and tea. Alfred settled near the fire gracefully, draping one leg over the other while leaning on the settee. Ivan found him attractive, admittedly; he certainly didn’t have the body or habits of a typical omega, though, and both his clothing and never-wavering stare revealed this.

America was known for its oppressive heat in the summer, as well as a rather comfortable climate in the remaining seasons. As such, Alfred was dressed in what was traditional for his land, though perhaps a bit foolish in the cooler Russ air. His light blue pants were tight at his hips as well as at his ankles, though other than those points, the airy fabric billowed out, not betraying the shape of his hips. His tanned chest and abdomen were covered in golden chains, crisscrossing about him. Around his throat and extending over his shoulders, a particularly elegant gold and sapphire choker of sorts shone in the firelight. Of course, to show his body so openly would’ve been lewd, so he wore a sheer scarf that went around his biceps and partially covered his front when he moved his arms in such a way. However, upon entering the room, he kept the tails of the fabric tucked against his sides, thus he coyly showed off his jewels. In Ivan’s opinion, he looked strange, though he supposed it was enticing in its own way, what with the jewels and gold seeming to drip down his skin, hinting at more treasures beneath his remaining clothes.

Even below the shawl, his forearms were dotted with cuffs, each featuring bright sapphires—the boy’s penetrating eyes were blue, and he was certainly taking advantage of that fact with his color scheme. Each finger, too, bore some gaudy bauble; the middle ones even had long covers that gave an appearance of talons. Peeking out from the base of his pants, more gold, chains so tightly bound they looked like mail, covered his otherwise bare feet and ended in rings around his second toes. His toenails, too, bore a light blue paint. And, above all this, a complex piece resembling a net hung over his head, falling like hair and mixing well with his own golden locks.

Ivan finished his appraisal and cleared his throat. “I hope your journey was comfortable.”

He shrugged. “It was fine.” He picked up a large pastry and bit into it, not seeming to mind the cream that spilled out.

Ivan wasn’t one for making conversation, and he’d hoped Alfred would be more helpful in that regard. But, Alfred didn’t give his own nicety. Instead, he finished his treat, wiping the cream off his lip with his tongue. He flicked his hair behind him, revealing particularly heavy-looking earrings that brushed the tips of his shoulder.

“Well,” Ivan continued. “I hope you—“

“Listen,” Alfred interrupted. Ivan startled, then glared. To think an _omega_ , a _guest_ , too, would speak so impudently. He knew his mood was evident in his scent, as Alfred stiffened. But, rather than growing fearful, he too, exuded his own threatening scent. “I was going to lay down some rules, and you’re already breaking one of them,” he scoffed.

“Rules?” Ivan growled. “You are in my home, you are my omega, you cannot—“

Alfred rose, his figure imposing. Ivan knew of course that omegas could be scary, though this was usually only when their young were threatened. So, a part of him, perhaps the part that associated omegas with his mother figure who was a force to be reckoned with in her own right, forced him to remain sitting rather than meet the challenge.

“Rule number one,” he began. “Don’t you dare try to use your alpha influence on me. Trust me, you’ll only end up making a fool of yourself. If you wish to gain my respect, you must earn it, and not with that cheap tactic. I hate that smell,” he crinkled his nose. “And, growing up as I have, I’m not one to be cowed by it. I’m sure they’ve told you all about me, that I’m more alpha than omega. I know this. I’ve fought for this. I am more than your sniveling little queen, I am a prince of America. I am the second born of two of the greatest rulers this world has seen. I will not be brushed aside because of my gender.

“Rule number two,” he continued. “You will learn of my culture, and I of yours. I understand that our empires do things differently. While alone, you are to respect me as I have been respected my whole life, as stated in rule number one. Of course, for appearance’s sake, in public, I will act like the submissive omega your culture says is proper. I do not wish to shame you. I will be a good companion; I hope you grow to see me as an ally. I do not want your love, but rather your mutual respect.

“Number three. I go into Heat once a year, though sometimes less than this. What happens when I’m on my Heat is not to be spoken of otherwise. I do not want to be touched by you aside from that week. If you have needs and request me to fulfill them, I will make that decision at the time.

“Thus, rule four. You may take a lover, if you wish. However, should I ever smell them, that means someone else could smell them on you too. In that case, both of us and our families would be shamed. So, do your best not to get caught. If I catch you, I won’t hesitate to end things, and I tend to be very thorough with loose ends. You may do the same for me, however, I will not take a lover, as I do not wish to shame you or this trade agreement in that way.”

He paused his speech, glaring down at Ivan.

The alpha rose, chuckling. “Are you done?”

“For now,” he responded.

“How long have you had these guidelines?”

“I’ve always had them. I’ve had many fiancés before you, you know. I’m something of a problem omega. Most alphas run when I lay down the law.”

“Is that what you want? To be a lone omega? Do you want me to run, too?”

“I want what’s best for my kingdom.”

“Of course,” Ivan’s eyes twinkled. Well, at the very least, his partner was fiery, amusing.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Alfred noted.

“What’s that?”

“You’re looking at me like I’m a rowdy dog that just needs to be trained. This is not the case.”

Ivan raised a brow—he had been thinking somewhat along those lines.

“I have one last rule,” Alfred said.

“Go ahead, then.”

“Try not to fall in love with me.”

“I doubt that will be a problem,” Ivan rolled his eyes.

Alfred smiled. He stepped toward Ivan, then, leaning up, placed the barest hint of a kiss against his lips. As short and gentle as the touch had been, Ivan reached forward, his instincts urging him to touch.

But, Alfred was already across the room, expertly avoiding the oppressive scent of want that Ivan had quickly produced. A few of the alpha attendants bristled, growing agitated at the sudden change in atmosphere.

Alfred laughed. “You’re so alpha it hurts. If this is what I could do to you with just a kiss, I couldn’t imagine what you’d be like if I actually tried using my influence.” He cocked a hip, placing his hand against it. “Luckily for you, I don’t operate that way. I look forward to seeing you at the wedding, Ivan.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, reigning in his scent. “Aren’t you staying for the week?”

“My family will stay, but I’m going home. I have my own things to attend to, you know.”

“Like what?”

He raised a brow. “Oh, you actually don’t know? Well, maybe I’ll tell you another time. We have our whole lives to learn about each other, after all.” He gave a merry wave. “Goodbye for now, my silly alpha.” With that, he was gone, leaving a very frustrated but intrigued Ivan in his wake.

* * *

It was only a month later that Ivan crossed the sea to America to attend his sister’s wedding. It was an extravagant affair, lasting several days. He hoped his own nuptials wouldn’t disappoint Alfred, as his kingdom did things in a bit more reserved a fashion.

Since they had nearly a week to celebrate, Ivan had time to explore the capitol and admire the western architecture. He found the city very beautiful, the planned and open streets surprising to him. Given how spontaneous and open the Americans tended to be, he didn’t expect their builders to operate with such foresight.

He hadn’t been allowed to see Alfred much, but he did get to speak with Matthew. The young lord was acting more himself when it was just the two of them.

“I’ll take care of her,” he promised. “She will be comfortable here, I guarantee it. I’ve already told her that she is free to visit home as often as she likes.”

“You shouldn’t let her roam freely,” Ivan noted.

“Pardon?”

“She doesn’t need to think she has as much freedom, after all. But, you shouldn’t have to worry. Katyusha is a well-behaved omega. She won’t stray, even if you offer her the option. So, in order to appear stronger, don’t even offer it.”

Matthew frowned. “I… I must say, I disagree.”

Ivan shrugged. “Very well, do as you like, it is no bother to me. If you put these thoughts of independence in her head, however, just be prepared for the consequences.” He rose, bowing slightly. “May you produce many healthy children.” He himself wasn’t a fan of children, which he knew were the primary purpose of alpha-omega unions, so he silently thanked the Fates that Alfred couldn’t have any.

Ivan’s interaction with Alfred had been brief. The omega had agreed to a dance with him during the final day’s ball. He was visibly drunk, as were most of the Americans, most notably Emperor Arthur who Francis was struggling to control. They were a rowdy bunch, and most of the Russians looked a bit uncomfortable with the festivities. Sure, they liked their alcohol as well, but in formal events, they tried to behave with more decorum.

“Ivan!” he said, grabbing his fiancé by the arm to support himself.

“Prince Alfred,” he said. “You’re drunk.”

He laughed loudly, taking another long drag of his beer. “’Course! It’s a shelebrashun!”

“Er,” he frowned, not understanding the slurred words very well.

“Come on, let’s dance!” he said, clarity returning.

“Shouldn’t the alpha have been the one to ask?”

“Well, you weren’t gonna! So I did it! Guess that makes me the alpha, huh?” Before Ivan could protest, Alfred yanked him to the middle of the dancefloor, injecting them into a line dance to which Ivan didn’t know the steps. Most of the guests didn’t mind however, laughing while helping him by pushing him and turning him every which way. There was so much partner switching that Ivan spent less than half of the time with Alfred, and eventually he escaped the crowd’s clutches when Alfred and he both came out near the thrones.

“That was overwhelming,” Ivan said.

Alfred laughed. “Was it? This party’s pretty tame. My dad hasn’t swung from a chandelier or cursed anyone.”

Ivan tried to imagine his own father acting so wildly, and could only chuckle. He fanned himself, his large fur coat hardly a wise selection in the temperature land.

“How are you not dying in that?” Alfred asked. “You should take it off.”

“It’s ceremonial; that would be rude.”

“Trust me, no one would know the difference.”

Sighing, Ivan relented—he really was boiling. He noticed one of his servants and waved him over, ordering him to take the robe to his room.

“You feel better?” Alfred asked.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he smiled. Ivan found himself almost feeling comfortable around the other—perhaps their match would grow into something more, he thought to himself. As his body basked in the air without his sweltering coat, he drank in Alfred’s own appearance. As before, his clothes were awfully revealing in comparison to his own. He wore a long white skirt that clung to his legs, a silver belt at his waist. Instead of many small pieces as he’d shown off previously, one large piece drew the viewer’s eye. A necklace cascaded over his torso, but it also seemed to operate as a shirt of sorts. Pearl chains of varying lengths swirled around him with each movement, some ending at large wristcuffs that extended to his middle fingers while some fell freely around his front and back. He had no other covering on his upper half other than a matching pearl headband. Ivan still had yet to figure out the fashion sense of Americans, as he noted that no one else appeared to be as gaudily dressed as Alfred. Perhaps it was unique to him, he thought.

A young man, clearly an omega, approached them. Ivan figured he must have been someone important since he seemed so confident, but his appearance suggested his commoner status.

“Al,” he smiled up at the prince.

“Oh, you’re here,” he pulled the other man close. Then, without hesitation, he bent down for a kiss. It wasn’t a kiss between friends as Russians performed, nor one between family members, unless Americans were very intimate with their families and used tongue. Pulling away, Alfred stroked the other’s back. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Of course,” the man finally turned and seemed to just notice Ivan. “Oh! Terribly sorry, sir!”

Alfred laughed. “No worries, this is Lord Ivan.”

“Oh,” he smiled. “Your fiancé?”

“Yes,” he glanced at Ivan. “This is Franklin, our stable boy, as well as my lover.”

“Excuse me?” Ivan felt too shocked to be offended.

“Yes, tragically he’ll remain behind when I go off to marry you. As I said, I won’t take another lover while we’re married, so there’s no need to be worried about that.”

“But… he’s an omega… and so are you…”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Franklin, be a dear and get a bath ready for us.”

“Of course, love,” he placed a parting peck on Alfred’s lips before leaving for the lord’s chamber.

Alfred pushed Ivan out of the ballroom and onto an open balcony. “You seem confused.”

“I am. Do… do you like omegas?” he asked, flushing. Such relations were taboo! It wasn’t natural. Perhaps that was why Alfred had never been married… why he didn’t want an alpha’s touch as omegas were programmed to want.

He shrugged. “I like people. Sometimes they’re omegas. It makes no difference to me.”

Ivan’s brows were furrowed. How could he marry someone like that? A pervert? “I… you say this won’t continue when we’re married?”

“It won’t. I won’t stray.”

He nodded. “Alright, then that’s fine. It’s just… experimentation. Nothing more.”

Alfred sighed. He didn’t want to deal with Ivan’s views that night. That was a conversation for another day. “Will you be okay on your own for the rest of the night? This is the last time I’ll ever see Franklin, you know. Our goodbye.”

“Er,” Ivan’s face reddened—here he was, blushing like an omega! How strange, he thought. Shaking his head, he tried to regain his usual, strong façade. Judging by Alfred’s sniff and subsequent distasteful look, he succeeded. “Very well. You may say goodbye to your friend. When we are wed, you are not to write him, nor any of your other previous trysts. I will take you to our church later, we can pray for your soul.”

“Thanks,” he replied, voice laced with sarcasm.

Ivan didn’t notice it. “Of course. Goodnight.” 

* * *

 

Alfred managed to upstage all of his previous looks at their wedding. As tradition dictated, Ivan wasn’t to see him until he walked down the church’s aisle; only when Alfred’s father handed him off could he turn and thus, take in Alfred’s look.

He had heard all the gasps of the women and more expressive men in the crowd, of course, and so had braced himself. Yet, despite the preventative measures taken, he couldn’t help but be shocked by the intricate splendor of the ensemble.

First, his veil was not of lace, though it resembled the fabric. Instead, flowers were shaped from small diamonds sewn onto a sheer fabric; Ivan couldn’t imagine the cost, let alone the hours spent on it—America was a certainly wealthy empire, he knew, and Alfred’s wardrobe spoke to his fathers’ success and power. Perhaps to pay homage to his future home, he wore a fantastic crown of flowers, red, white, and blue roses before a gate of golden spires. Ivan only hoped his head could handle the weight, though he couldn’t see Alfred’s face to gauge his comfort.

His bodice on first glance appeared to be plain, though the gold fabric was complimented by sprinkled rubies. The way his waist was drawn in, unnaturally so, suggested that he was wearing a corset, something only typical to fashionable women. Though, unlike a woman, instead of a dress, his top only extended a few inches below his hips, looking honestly more like a pair of undergarments than anything that should be worn in public. Above it was a partial hoop, the kind which usually hid beneath a full skirt, but instead, it was fully exposed, and purposefully so given the gems adorning the metal contraption ending just above his knees, level with a pair of bright red boots accented with white stitching matching the pattern of his veil.

Around his shoulders was a striking blue cape, trailing behind him several meters; a handful of attendants was busy arranging the cloth in a more presentable fashion once Alfred had stopped. And, at his shoulders, an aggressively protruding metal cuff matching the metal hoop that reached toward the sky, ending just at his head and thus not threatening the height of his crown.

The entire outfit was unnecessary, and Ivan knew for a fact that no part of it was traditional; at Matthew’s wedding, the older twin as well as the emperors had worn much more reserved clothes, which Ivan had been told were called kilts. Why did Alfred expend so much energy on capturing everyone’s attention? Ivan wondered. He further mused upon whether or not this ill-bred habit would fade with his time in Russ.

The priest began the ceremony, and the guests remained standing for the duration. Thankfully, it wasn’t too long, as Russ wasn’t known for excessiveness in any way.

Scriptures were read, blessings placed, and finally it was time for the couple to speak. Ivan hadn’t prepared any vows beyond the basics required of alphas, as he didn’t expect any words to have power in making their union more enjoyable.

“I vow to protect you and our children, that our household may be prosperous. As my bonded mate, you will never want for shelter, food, or touch.”

The usual omega vows were just as bland, though unsurprisingly Alfred strayed from them in his own short speech. “I, too, vow to protect you and our kingdom as I am able. In me you will find strength, prosperity, and companionship,” he began. Nothing of comfort, of submissiveness, of children, though Ivan hardly expected him to speak on such sentiments. “Long before America became the empire it is now, we were a warring people, ruling the seas and lands with force. Such power resides in my blood, and you may draw upon it in your hour of need.”

Ivan cocked his head at that; America tended not to dwell on its bloodied past, he knew. Emperor Arthur’s mother had ended that reign of terror, and now it prided itself on its culture and wealth rather than its past military prowess. Still, a kingdom would be foolish to think America had lost any of its fire, as its armies were still by far the largest in the world. Russ, too, had a troubled and violent past, but this was still within recent memory, try as they may to destroy memories of such barbaric acts. They had sought to emulate America, wishing to garner respect rather than fear. He was surprised Alfred would choose his vows as such, though he supposed all he could expect from his groom was the unexpected.

Finally, he lifted the veil, marveling at the fine detail for a few seconds before seeing Alfred’s face. He startled upon seeing that the other, whose voice had sounded so strong, was fighting tears, his red-rimmed eyes surely having exhausted them prior to the ceremony. It was almost enough to make Ivan feel guilty, though he knew of course that such was the way of arranged marriages. Alfred should consider himself lucky that Ivan would comply with his ridiculous rules as well as tolerate his eccentricities, he thought. So, he took Alfred’s right hand, placing the simple gold band on his fourth finger; the piece was lost among all the other rings and cuffs adorning him. Then, leaning forward, he kissed the man’s puffy—perhaps bitten due to stress—lips for several seconds. They parted and turned to walk back down the aisle to the tune of the people’s cheers.

For the brief reception, they hardly spent a moment together. Rather, Alfred socialized with Ivan’s family, and vice versa. Eventually, they were forced to the front table, a short toast from Ivan’s father marking the beginning of the feast.

Perhaps it was the flowing wine, but Alfred seemed to brighten as the dinner wore on. He had fully turned to Ivan by the time the appetizer was cleared.

“How are you feeling, husband?” he asked cheerily.

“Fine. And you?” Ivan responded.

Alfred pouted. “I’d be better if this food wasn’t so weird.”

“I apologize, if it’s not to your liking—“

Alfred waved his hand, his jewels clanking in the air. “I’m teasing, don’t worry. I suppose I’ll just have to get used to this cuisine, anyway.” A server presented them both with a bowl of soup, and Alfred looked eager, at least, to try it. After one spoonful, however, he appeared sick. “Er, I don’t mean to cause trouble, but this soup is cold.”

Ivan mixed a glob of white cream in his own soup before taking a scoop. His mouthful was loaded with spices, and he smiled at the nostalgic taste. “It’s supposed to be cold.”

Alfred stuck out his tongue. “I don’t like it. And what’s this white thing?”

“It is a cream, very common topping here. Try it.”

Alfred dabbed the back of his spoon on the floating blob, then licked it. “It’s weird.”

Ivan shrugged. “I suppose you will starve then. I believe our deal will still continue even upon your death.”

Alfred laughed, which surprised Ivan. He’d always been told his sense of humor was too dark to be proper. “In the case of my murder, I think war may be declared. And, murdering me with this horrible, cold poison is perhaps worse than a simple stabbing. Anyway, I’d hope you’d wait to kill me till after the wedding. We haven’t even consummated our marriage.”

“Of course, I can be patient. Should I murder you, I wouldn’t do it so obviously,” he chuckled. A passing server paled at their conversation, filling their wine glasses with trembling hands.

He scoffed. “Patient, you say? I think you just want a taste of me first. And then,” he mimed a knifed cutting across his throat. “Goodbye, Alfred.”

“You think so highly of your beauty?”

“No, I think lowly of your sense of control. As I’ve stated before, you let your alpha thinking cloud your base logic.”

He frowned. “Aren’t those the same thing?”

“Don’t be silly. The alpha part of you is nothing more than what society has forced you to think it is. It’s not nearly as powerful as you give it credit for. If you get around those imposed expectations, regardless of that gender, and the other gender, too, that is your base self.”

“But, our gender is a component of biology, is it not?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Besides, the expectations and opportunities I have as an alpha have had some influence over my behaviors.”

Alfred seemed to brighten. He hummed. “Perhaps you’re not as ignorant as I’d originally thought. Yes, of course you’ve been shaped by society, but, ideally—“ he paused, noticing something distasteful. “Oh…”

“What’s wrong?” Ivan asked, looking to where Alfred was staring. There, peeking out from behind a pillar, was Franklin.

“I’m so sorry,” Alfred seemed truthful. “I swear I told him to stay behind. He must have snuck in with the traveling party. I’ll take care of it.”

“I can have him escorted out, if you’d prefer—“

“No, it’s best that I deal with it. Like I said, I don’t like loose ends.” Rising, he excused himself to the powder room. On his walk toward Franklin, he called over a few of his guards. The group managed to sneak out the back without much disturbance.

Still, Ivan was not one to be left in the dark, and so he followed after them, making up his own excuse a few minutes after so as not to appear too suspicious. Given their selected point of exit, he knew there were only a few possible secluded spots for them to talk. He figured the most logical place would be the eastern garden, as it was barren at that time of year and thus not a popular attraction to any guests who chose to amble the lavish home.

Sure enough, they were there in the small courtyard. Ivan kept out of sight by attaching his back to a large horse sculpture. He was close enough to hear, though he dared not try to look.

“Alfred, please, you must listen to me,” Franklin was sobbing.

“I have listened to you, love.” He sighed. “I told you not to follow me. Why did you disobey?” his tone was more disappointed that threatening. “You should’ve stayed behind.”

“How could I? I love you,” he fell to his knees, Ivan guessed, judging by the sound of gravel shifting. “I never thought it was possible for me to fall for anyone who was an omega… but, I know now that no one else, no other alpha, could satisfy me! I can’t live without you!” Ivan could feel his desperation from his hiding spot; it was a tactic omegas used to influence alphas when their alphas were getting overtly violent.

“Is that true?” Alfred’s voice wavered. Ivan almost felt himself moved by the man’s cries and scent; it would certainly work to sway many an alpha, he knew. “Well, alright.” Ivan waited for them to embrace—though he would feel no satisfaction on catching Alfred in his broken promise. Instead, there was a quick cry and the sound of something dropping. Then, the smell of blood. Ivan couldn’t resist his curiosity and so leaned out to see what had happened.

It was a gruesome sight, Franklin’s body slack on the ground, a blade separating him from his head. And, at the end of the blade, not a guard, but Alfred. He rose from his crouch, rolling his shoulders. Then, he laughed. “Woo, haven’t beheaded anyone in a few months.” He passed the blade to one of the guards. “Take care of this, will you? It wouldn’t do for us to have an incident at my wedding, now would it?”

“Yeesh,” the guard replied, removing a thick cloth from a pocket to wipe off his weapon. “Al, I don’t know if killing him was necessary. Or, at least, we could’ve done it ourselves.”

Alfred chuckled, then slapped the man’s back harshly. “Now, what kind of example would I be setting if I let you do all the dirty work? You should know by now that that’s not how I operate.”

The other guard joined in the laughter. “You’ve always been quick to draw, Captain. We’ll take care of him. You should head back to your dinner.”

“I’m jealous we don’t get to eat,” the first guard frowned.

“Don’t be, the food’s so weird,” Alfred said. “Ah, if you don’t mind… could you bury him properly? And, make sure his sister is given some money. I know it’s not the same, but… Oh, why was he so stupid?” he whined. Sighing, he turned, heading back toward the castle. “Take care of things, boys. Make it quick.”

“Yes sir!” they called after him in tandem. Alfred waved over his shoulder, retreating inside. Ivan waited a few minutes, listening to the guards joking about some guard’s attempt to flirt with a local maid. Then, when they were out of sight, heading toward a dense cropping of trees that marked the start of a quaint wood, he followed after Alfred.

He found his husband happily chatting with his brother who had come to offer his well-wishes.

“My lord,” Alfred waved him over. “Matthew, tell him what you told me.”

“Oh,” he flushed. “I don’t think it’s too appropriate.”

Alfred pouted. “Fine. Well, go off, then, attend to your lovely bride and leave me with my own brooding one.”

Matthew laughed. Then, reaching out to shake Ivan’s hand, he clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck, Lord Ivan. I give you a year till you’re absolutely sick of him.”

Ivan’s returning smile was strained. “Thank you, brother.”

Once alone, Ivan returned to his seat. He glanced at Alfred, eyes fixated on a spot on his cheek.

“What?” Alfred finally asked upon catching his stare. “I hope you’re not expecting a kiss.”

“No,” he insisted. “You’ve got something on your cheek,” he pointed.

Alfred rubbed at his cheek, then switched sides when Ivan shook his head. Finally, he got the stain off, looking at the crimson flakes under his nail. He drew it into his mouth, then smiled. “Thanks! Must have been that weird beet stuff. What did you call it?”

“Borscht.”

“Yeah, that,” he settled back in his chair. “Where did you run off to?”

“Just needed some air. How were things with Franklin?”

He shrugged. “Nothing too strange. My guards are taking him outside the grounds. Again, I’m sorry. I hope this doesn’t make you think less of me.”

Ivan shook his head. “No, if anything, I am intrigued.”

Alfred raised a brow. “That’s an odd sentiment. I am a man of my word, you know.”

“May I make my own rule, since you have so many?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“I would like to ask… that you not lie to me.”

He pursed his lips for a few seconds, focusing on his untouched salad in front of him. Then, he smiled. “Okay, I can do that! You’ll find that I’m not a very dishonest person, anyway. Is that all?”

“Why do you not want to take a lover, but you allow me to do so?” he asked.

“Well,” he sipped his chalice. “My sex drive, I’ll admit, is lacking. Thus, I don’t want you feeling frustrated. Though, if you’re ever angry, I’d hope you come to me and not take it out on some weaker person. I could handle it, I know, even if it’s not preferred. I’m only ever horny during my Heats, and even then, I prefer drugs and alcohol to stay numb to it. It’s an unwanted symptom of my biology,” he frowned.

“So, you recognize that being an omega has a biological basis, that it’s not just a societal thing?”

He laughed. “Of course. I never said it was solely that… it’s complicated. I’ve dwelt a lot on this stuff, you know. For a long time, I wished that I was an alpha, and I rejected anything that made me ‘seem omega’, especially Heats. I acted out, tried to be more ‘alpha-like’, even when those behaviors weren’t authentic. But, the problem was never me, rather it was how society forced me to think I should act in any way because of my assignment. I knew that I didn’t coincide with how I was ‘supposed’ to act. But, given that omegas are expected to be inferior, this is hardly a bad thing. The truth is that I am strong, I am loud. Whether I was an alpha or omega, man or woman… I’m just… me. I am better in some ways, not because I am a man, but because I am me. I am worse in other ways, not because I am an omega, but also because I am me.”

“Why can’t you have children?”

He chuckled. “Really cutting deep for our first extended conversation, aren’t you?” he frowned. “In our society, the relationships that are considered the most desirable are all built on lust. Omegas yearn to be found by an alpha who, after one whiff, goes crazy for them and won’t stop till they possess them fully. To me, that’s not a healthy relationship; in fact, it’s really, really fucked up. It’s never been something I wanted for myself or for anyone I love, to be owned in that way. What do I smell like to you, Ivan?”

“I suppose like the sea, and sand and sun.”

“And it’s not making you crazy?”

He shook his head.

Alfred smiled. “That makes me glad. I think it’s better when both parties are in full control of themselves.”

“But, the bonds and attractions we feel allow for suitable offspring to be born.”

“I don’t think loving unions should only be about children. I think they can be so much more than that; and, they should be more than people finding sexual satisfaction in each other, too.”

“I know some bonds start in disagreeable circumstances, but they can become more.”

“Sure, but that’s usually more out of obligation because a child was conceived. Anyway, the truth is, I can’t have kids because my womb was removed. It’s also why I don’t go into Heat as much as other omegas. My biology has been altered.”

“What?” Ivan startled. He knew some omegas did this as an extreme form of birth control, but it was illegal in his country. He’d assumed it was the same in America.

“When I went into my first Heat, a visiting nobleman took advantage of me. I didn’t know him before, only met him in passing. I’m sure I asked for it, but in my Heats, I’m not of sound enough mind to truly call it consent unless I agree to it beforehand. I conceived, and the man’s family demanded a wedding. My parents were very understanding, thankfully, when I told them I didn’t want to be with the alpha who had raped me. And, I did not want to carry the child, for multiple reasons. But, the procedure was poorly done, even by the royal physician—I can only imagine how hard it is for commoners to perform such an operation. In addition to losing the child, complications forced for the removal of my womb entirely.”

“I’m sorry,” Ivan said, not sure what else to say.

“Don’t be. I didn’t want children anyway. This royal life is not one for children, I don’t think. If I had an alpha, they would grow up to take some poor omega who may have no say in the matter. And if I had an omega, their ‘perfect’ life would end with an alpha controlling them. Then there’s the social stigma that is unique to betas, too.”

“Is what happened to you… is that why you don’t trust alphas?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust them. And, regardless of what happened, my views would be much the same way, I think.”

“I see,” Ivan replied. “Well, I can’t say I agree all of your views completely, or at all.”

“That’s fine. I don’t necessarily think my way of thinking is the only right way. There are a lot of differences between cultures, even between families. Traditional relationships, if they are consensual, can be rewarding and prosperous in themselves. Matthew’s a bit more traditional, and I don’t fault him for it. I think his and Ekaterina’s union will be very healthy, but this is because they respect each other. Power balance is key.”

“That explains your vows, then.”

He smiled. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”

“No, it is of no consequence to me. I have not spent much time thinking on these things, I’ll admit. I’ve only ever thought of my future rule. I knew of course I would have an omega spouse someday, but who they were never concerned me, as I figured I would be too busy with politics to focus on anyone else.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Thank you for telling me all this. It is a rather heavy topic, especially for our wedding day.”

“Thank you for caring enough to listen; I hope you feel like you can talk to me about anything that may trouble you, as well. You weren’t the only one raised to rule. I have my own insights I could offer your kingdom, perhaps.”

“One last question for the night, I think,” Ivan said. “Why did you kill Franklin?”

He pouted. “I thought I sensed someone lurking around. Why? Well, he disobeyed me. I explicitly told him not to follow me. Besides, if he were caught, he could spread rumors about me. Were I unwed I would not care so much, but since now our names are linked, I thought it best to sever old ties.”

“By severing his head?”

“I said I don’t like loose ends, didn’t I?”

“I suppose you did.”

“What would you have done if I’d lied to you just then?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have cared, but I would’ve remembered it.”

“That’s wise,” he replied. “An enemy in your bed is dangerous.”

“Then, I hope that we can grow to be friends; despite the situation of our meeting, I do wish for us to at least become advisors to each other.”

Alfred smiled. “That’s all I’d hope to expect from this.”

“I cannot think as you do, I know, perhaps I never will, but I will respect your independence to act as you wish. Should we disagree, I don’t want to be like some alphas and punish you in any way.”

“I appreciate that,” he reached out and took Ivan’s hand. “To many years of friendship.”

Ivan squeezed his hand gently in response. “To many years of friendship.”

* * *

Alfred’s family were the last guests to leave after the wedding, and the following few days were dedicated to both clean-up from the party as well as helping the American settle into his new life. Ivan helped him familiarize himself with the layout of his home as best as he could; he knew Ekaterina would have been much more helpful with this sort of thing, as there were some facilities designed to cater to needs of omegas, and thus Ivan was rather clueless for some pertinent parts of the tour. 

After filling not only his private room’s closet but also an adjoining study with his clothes and jewels, the king allowed Alfred to move instead into Ekaterina’s old room, as it was large enough to accommodate all of his possessions. Thus, the lady’s remaining clothes and furniture were moved to Alfred’s previously assigned room. It wasn’t convenient to their marriage, Ivan thought, as the original plan placed Alfred and Ivan in the same wing, with private quarters for each as well as shared spaces for the pair to bond within. Instead, they dwelled in completely separate wings, with Alfred’s nearest neighbor being Ivan’s younger sister Natalya, who refused to even speak to the newcomer.

The young omega hardly seemed to mind his seclusion, Ivan had heard from his assigned attendant Toris. He enjoyed keeping to himself, only ever leaving to go riding or to wander the gardens. Ivan only saw him during meal times for the first month, though on certain days Ivan dined with his father and other advisors instead. On the off chance that they did bump into each other during the day, which happened on a few occasions as both enjoyed reading and often liked to pilfer the library for more novels at around the same time, they exchanged smiles and greetings. Ivan would ask on Alfred’s health and what he was reading, and then he’d recommend a text.

Ivan was comfortable with the arrangement—it was almost as if nothing had changed, which he had no problem with. Both were perfectly free to do their own thing; well, there were some situations where Alfred wasn’t as free, as the king had seen to restricting some of his trips into town and even his method of dress. Still, Alfred’s quirky style was always evident, and Ivan had yet to see him repeat an outfit. The only constant was his wedding ring, which stood out, oddly enough, as the only simple thing about him.

One late evening, Ivan chose to visit his husband, as his work from earlier in the day was weighing heavily on his mind. During a discussion with an ambassador from one of Russ’s primary allies, something said had rubbed him the wrong way; he’d voiced his feelings to his father afterwards, but the king insisted that Ivan was being foolish. Without anyone else to turn to, Ivan remembered Alfred’s words from their wedding, and so figured he could make for a potentially helpful sounding board.

Alfred smiled at seeing his guest, ushering Ivan into his bedroom after asking Toris to fetch them some tea. He’d been reading on his bed, apparently, as he attempted to tidy up the space by placing his book on his desk and straightening out his blankets and pillow. They chatted on shallow things such as the weather, letters from their siblings, and books until Toris returned; the timid assistant set up the tea on a small table between two large chairs then excused himself.

Both prepared their tea as they preferred it—Alfred with three scoops of sugar, Ivan with two. Then, after getting comfortable in their seats, Alfred sparked the conversation.

“You seem troubled,” he remarked.

“Do I?” Ivan asked. He sipped at his tea, sighing at the soothing warmth.

“You do; it’s in your smell. And your shoulders.”

Ivan hadn’t realized he’d been so tense, and he relaxed his body; he felt casual, oddly enough, despite the fact that he and Alfred were still nearly strangers to each other. “I didn’t notice.”

“You should have a massage, sometime. I usually have one after my daily bath.”

“I don’t have time for such treatments. Too girlish.”

Alfred laughed. “Oh, I insist you indulge yourself on occasions. Anyway, what’s bothering you?”

“We’ve been hosting some men from China recently—I’m not sure if you know.”

He nodded. “I’ve heard a few stray comments on it. You and your father have missed a few meals lately, so I know you’re busy. Is something wrong?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps I’m just overthinking things.”

“I think that’s a good habit for a future leader.”

Ivan smiled at the compliment. “I’m often told that I should trust my instincts sometimes, that too much thought can only confuse me.”

“Some leaders have instincts enough that they don’t need to think. But, who can know who is born to lead until years after their deaths when we can fully study them? It’s not so bad to think a lot in the meanwhile.”

“Do you think I have these instincts? I know you’re well studied on history and even politics. I’ve read my fair share as well, but there are times when I doubt myself.”

He hummed. “I think only a foolish ruler would presume himself to be perfect. Your introspectiveness and worry are not bad; I hope you don’t view your doubts as a sign of weakness.”

“Perhaps I do see them that way. I never see my father doubting anything he says. He is always composed. Why, today, I raised my voice at the ambassador, and I felt so embarrassed. But, I just… I couldn’t hold in my emotions.”

Alfred nodded. “What had you so passionate, then?”

He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure if I should go into too much detail.”

“Don’t trust me yet?” Alfred stuck out his tongue, though his eyes were smiling. “What a rude husband.”

“It’s not that… Well, perhaps it is. Please don’t be offended. I’d be as cautious with anyone I’ve only known for such a short time, especially someone not of Russian descent.”

He waved away the comment. “I’m not offended. Please, continue your rant.”

“Well, I don’t know if I can go into my thoughts about his words without revealing too much… but, in addition to that, I’m also conflicted on how I conducted myself. I was always taught to remain reserved in these meetings, to not show my feelings. A strong leader, an alpha… we are not to be so emotional; it is weak to be overcome by sentiments. I could feel my father’s glare, but I couldn’t stop speaking. I had to excuse myself to avoid further embarrassing him.”

Alfred mulled over the words silently, staring into his cup. “You know, this is a case in which gender discrimination affects alphas negatively.”

“How so?”

“Well, you say that showing emotions is weak, that an alpha shouldn’t do so. Why is that? And is it fine for omegas to do it?”

“Well, of course you can do it. Omegas are more susceptible to emotions.”

“Is that so? Or, is it that we are allowed to express our emotions more, and thus we simply appear to be more sentimental? When you see an omega crying or laughing loudly, you don’t bat an eye, chalking it up to their nature. But, to see an alpha so expressive, it is odd to most people. Of course, you yourself know… you feel sad, and angry, and joyful, and every other emotion I feel. Do you not?”

“Sure. I’m human.”

“I think most alphas don’t express themselves because they’ve been taught that only omegas do so. And, since being an omega is seen as a negative for the most part or, at the very least, as the less-preferred ‘option’, they don’t want to associate themselves with that classification, and thus they push away emotions in order to fit into this mold. I think this contributes greatly to a lot of frustration in some alphas. Bottling things up isn’t healthy, you know.”

“What you’re saying makes sense,” Ivan began. “But, I’m not sure what good thinking this way will do for me. It’s not as if I can start spewing out every feeling I get! My father would ban me from all our meetings; I’d be made out to be a fool.”

“I know,” Alfred sighed. “I don’t envy your position. It’s a complicated problem, given your status.”

Ivan nodded. “I must say, I feel better talking to you about these things. Someone else would’ve laughed at me, or perhaps just told me to disregard my feelings, to have a more level head.” He tapped at his armrest, a nervous habit he’d had since his youth that he’d been forcefully trained to never use in public. “Maybe, then, I can talk of what specifically upset me.

“I’m sure you’re aware that China is our long-time ally. We are rivals, of sorts, as well, and we’ve toed this line for decades. China and America, however, are often at odds as you both compete to garner more trading allies and routes.”

“My dad absolutely hates their emperor,” Alfred laughed.

“You are so candid,” Ivan chuckled in response. “Perhaps you should be more guarded—what if I told Emperor Yao next time I saw him?”

“No need to hold back, my family is awfully blunt themselves. I’m pretty sure the last time Yao visited us, my father punched him in the face!”

Ivan’s mouth fell open. “How have you not gone to war, then, after such a slight?”

“No one would go to war with us, that’d be suicide. That’s why, even though your father doesn’t like us or our culture, he agreed to this union, isn’t it? Associating with us and leeching wealth and power… it’s much easier than opposing us directly, you know.”

He laughed. “I can’t tell whether you’re so open because you’re an omega or because you’re American. It’s refreshing.”

He smiled. “It’s probably just because I’m Alfred. I know I tend to overshare, even amongst my own people I can give too much information. Anyway, what did this ambassador say?”

“Well, they were talking about certain legislation they’d passed in order to more closely monitor the trade of some of their remedies. What was suggested, however, to me seemed unjust. Essentially, they sought to deny access of some of their medications to certain groups based on their gender classification. Russ prides itself on the health of all our citizens. Our economics are such that people’s base needs are provided for no matter their status. I know, of course, that we are two separate entities, and that our ally-ship does not mean we have to be the exact same as each other; it’s hardly my place to comment on how they operate their kingdom. But, then he mentioned future goals they had which were even _more_ imposing on omegas. It angered me, surprisingly. I thought of my mother and my sisters, should they have to abide by such laws, and I knew how unfair it was. My mistake, I think, was in mentioning my distaste, as well as passionately advising my father not to follow this example as the ambassador was recommending.”

Alfred nodded along to his explanation, fully engaged. “I didn’t know China was like that… that’s a shame; I’d thought their laws had been improving recently. I know I have a lot to say on omega rights in my country and yours, but I can say that in comparison to some countries, we have a much better environment. Of course, that doesn’t excuse the issues in our countries… —Anyway! That’s just awful. Do you think they’ll follow through on these goals of theirs?”

“I don’t see why not. No one is opposing them.”

“Well, why don’t you oppose them?”

“That’s not my place,” he sighed. “Even if I was king now, speaking out would just draw in their wrath; they’d place embargos or raise taxes and ruin our economy. Mentioning it to my father would be idiotic.”

“I see. Well… Why not use me, then? Or, rather, my family?”

“What do you mean?”

“America doesn’t rely on their trade; we have enough partners to get by without them. If my father spoke against their current state, people would listen. Perhaps, then, the public outcry would pressure them to change. It could be safer for an outside source to start it, rather than for the omegas within the kingdom to speak up, as that could bring punishment to their doorstep.”

“I don’t know,” Ivan frowned. “Won’t it be obvious that Russ was your source of information?”

“Then the world would see that our new ally-ship is effective. I promised you my power, did I not? It’s hardly a battle, I know, but we Americans can fight in our own way, underhanded as it may seem,” he smiled.

“I… I will think about it… I’m not sure my father would agree to it, honestly.”

“Well, perhaps I can bring it up. I’m very good at lying to world leaders, you know.”

“That’s an interesting skill to have acquired.”

Laughing, he stood, setting his tea cup aside. “Twenty four years of being spoiled by the ‘Fearsome Pirate Emperor’ have taught me quite a lot. I can pretend that my father mentioned it in a letter, or something.”

“When do you ever have an audience with my father, though?” Ivan asked. He watched as Alfred moved toward the back of his chair.

“We ride together once a week, actually. He doesn’t like me too much, I don’t think.”

“Really?” Ivan raised a brow. “He sees you more than I do.”

“That’s true.”

He pouted. Alfred was now behind Ivan, though he figured the American had moved toward his bed. But, on feeling hands on his shoulders, he realized how close Alfred was. “What are you doing?”

“I think I’ve gotten enough massages to have picked up a bit on the technique. Let me relax you a bit. I’ll just rub your neck and shoulders, if you’d like.”

“Oh,” he replied smartly. “Er, alright, then.”

Smiling, Alfred set to his task, kneading his fingers over Ivan’s muscled form. Ivan groaned at the sensation, closing his eyes and letting himself enjoy the moment.

“Is the pressure enough?” Alfred asked. “Not too hard?”

“It’s fine,” Ivan sighed.

For a few minutes, Alfred continued. After working through all the knots his amateur hands could find, he rubbed at Ivan’s head gently, mussing up his hair slightly but further lulling Ivan into a sleepy state. Eventually, he pulled away, and Ivan found himself missing the touch.

“How was that?” Alfred asked.

“You know damn well how it was,” Ivan replied. He melted deeper into the plush cushion behind him. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You look sleepy now,” he laughed.

“Shut up,” he yawned. “I guess I should get to my room.” He frowned at the thought of the walk. He felt too relaxed.

“You can always stay here, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I don’t wish to impose,” Ivan flushed. First an intimate massage, and then to share a bed? Ivan knew that Alfred didn’t want to be touched in a spousal way till his Heat.

“It’s no bother. The bed is big enough for both of us to be comfortable. Come,” he commanded. Ivan stood before following after Alfred.

The younger man was apparently already in his sleeping clothes, as he threw himself onto his bed without thought. Ivan had thought the silken robe, ostentatious as it was, was yet another of Alfred’s fashionable outfits, but it seemed he maintained his style even in sleep. Ivan was also dressed casually, though hardly thought his ensemble proper to sleep in comfortably.

“You can undress, if you wish,” Alfred said.

“Are you sure?” Ivan felt nervous, which he found odd. He was also confused about what exactly Alfred wanted. He chose to be upfront. “We’re just sleeping, right?”

“Sure. I mean, I suppose we can cuddle if you want.”

“Right. Okay.” He stood still for a moment before shedding his coat. Then his shirt. He hesitated at removing his pants, then decided to just go all the way with it. Clad only in his undergarments, he slid into the side opposite his husband. Alfred nodded as if to say that he was satisfied before extinguishing the oil lamp at his bedside.

The room was still well lit thanks to the moonlight streaming through the large window. Alfred whined. “Oh, I forgot to get the shutters. Would you be so kind, Ivan?”

“Of course,” he responded, rolling out of the bed. He quickly closed the blinds, shrouding the room in darkness. He fumbled a bit on his short trip back to the bed but managed to return safely.

“Thank you,” Alfred said. He shifted under his covers then reached out to take Ivan’s arm. “You smell nervous.”

“Do I?” Ivan turned toward him, though he couldn’t see him in the dark. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed lightly. “Don’t be sorry. It’s sweet. You can be as emotional and unsure as you want around me. Feel free to be like me and overshare.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He covered Alfred’s hand with his own then scooted closer to the center himself. They were close, breath intermingling in the inches between them. As intimate as the contact was, Ivan wasn’t feeling any sexual charge. He was simply… comfortable, in a word.

Alfred rolled over, presenting his back to Ivan’s chest. Ivan pressed closer, draping his arm over Alfred’s torso. Alfred relaxed in his hold, then, after releasing a breath, Ivan also relaxed, returning to his state of contented bliss from a few minutes prior.

They didn’t speak more, as both fell asleep quickly. Ivan had never felt so warm in his own bed, he knew, and he drifted off hoping they could spend more nights together in just the same way.

* * *

They fell into a more comfortable routine in the following month, usually spending the evenings and on some occasions the nights in each other’s company. Alfred opened up more about his daily routine, Ivan felt more secure in talking about various political opinions he held. While he still didn’t wish to defy his father in any way and thus didn’t share any heretical trains of thought, bouncing ideas off of Alfred helped him become more confident in his views.

Of course, Alfred didn’t simply accept any and everything Ivan said; he was quick to argue, too, and given both of their histories of study, they often fell into rather spirited debates. Since Ivan was free to be more expressive in Alfred’s company, he no longer disregarded any of his more pathos-laced arguments as he’d been taught to do in the past, rather he found that emotions could be a good base for an argument, so long as he backed it up with facts in the end.

They didn’t often come to an agreement, but they tried to remain respectful during their dialogues. At the very least, they grew to understand each other’s backgrounds better; Ivan looked forward to their little visits. He hardly saw Alfred as his mate, but started seeing him as a friend. He only hoped that Alfred felt the same way.

After waiting till the hour was late enough that he knew Alfred would be done with his bath, Ivan left his room for their usual visit. He knocked on the door, and instead of answering it, Alfred called out for him to come in.

Ivan obeyed, and immediately his senses were bombarded with Alfred’s scent, an uncommon experience. Alfred bathed so frequently, wore so many perfumes and lotions, that it was rare for Ivan to ever smell it. And, it was far from his day-to-day scent, anyway. There was a muskier undertone to it, if Ivan wasn’t mistaken, he’d say that Alfred was nearing his Heat.

“Are you alright?” Ivan asked. Alfred was lying face-down on top of his comforter in only his underwear. He turned his head so he could properly face his husband.

“No,” he huffed. “I feel shitty. I bet I’ll be going into Heat in a few days.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he responded. “Do you… is there anything I can do to help?”

“Kill me?”

“Too much work.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re such a tease.” Sighing, he rolled so that he was on his side, though he was curled tightly around himself, clutching at his stomach. “I always get so sick in the days before. My father was an amazing cook, and he’d even studied medicine before he’d met the Emperor; he’d usually prepare something that soothed my muscles. I’m not sure what it was, though.”

“I could ask our kitchen to try to make something; I’m sure they’ve helped out plenty omegas over the years.”

“Would you? I sent Toris home early, already. I felt bad, he’d been putting up with a lot of my snapping.”

“Snapping?”

“I get moody with the cramps,” he explained. “Anyway, I can’t remember exactly what was in the mix, I want to say there was milk, poppy, rose, honey, ginger… that kind of stomach stuff.”

“Right,” Ivan began, unsure if he’d be able to help. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, I also like chocolate at this time. The more cocoa, the better. Or, maybe something spicy with some cheese. You guys don’t use enough hot stuff, I don’t think. If I ever visit back home, I’ll be overwhelmed by the heat.”

“Okay. Weird drink thing, chocolate, cheese, and spice. I’ll get on it.”

“Thank you.” His face tensed, another wave of pain crashing over him. “I’ll be here, infirm and whatnot.”

Without another word, Ivan left the room. He hadn’t been distracted by Alfred’s scent, at least—how horrid would it be for him to be overcome by it and act in an animalistic fashion? Focused, he took off down the hall, making his dash to the kitchen quickly.

There were a number of cooks and servers there, most likely prepping for the meals for the next day.

“Lord Ivan!” their idle conversations ceased immediately on smelling the agitated alpha. “Are you alright?”

“I need some things.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“I need something with chocolate, lots of it, no sugar. And… er… something cheesy, but also spicy. Then, if you have anything, something to help with… cramps… specifically those afflicting someone in pre-Heat.”

The head chef mulled over the request. “Pre-Heat cramps? Well, I’m not sure what is best for that.”

A younger omega, a woman, stepped forward. “I have a recipe that does wonders for that. Is the Lord Alfred ailing?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

She giggled. “I’d assumed only your omega would arouse any sense of urgency in you, sir.”

He flushed. “Yes, he’s not feeling well, and I’d like for him to feel better.”

“I heard he yelled at Toris earlier, poor thing must be feeling awful. They say the first Heat after moving in with your alpha is the most painful,” another server noted.

“Quit this chit-chat!” the chef commanded. “Sorry, sir, we’ll work on it.”

“Ah thank you. He mentioned a remedy he’d used in the past, one with… milk, honey, ginger, poppy, and rose…”

“Poppy? Should he take that before Heat?”

“What do you mean?”

“Or, I don’t mean to impose. But, drugs and alcohol shouldn’t be consumed so close to a potential conception.”

“Would they help with the pain?’

“Sure, of course, they’d act as they usually do.”

“Then use them, I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you questioning me?” Ivan’s tone was aggressive, and the air in the kitchen grew tense.

“Oh, no, sir! We’ll get on it! Here, we have some leftover spice cake, perhaps he could try it. And, we’ve some powdered chocolate powder, from America, actually. We usually mix it with milk and sugar, though, it’s rather bitter on its own.” He bent down to root around a cupboard, taking out a small jar of brown powder. The young woman from before placed a plate of a light brown cake in Ivan’s hand.

“I think that’ll work, but perhaps also heat some milk for me,” Ivan said.

“Of course.”

They bustled about, getting what they could manage in such short noticed. Not twenty minutes after arriving, Ivan and a full tray were on their way back to Alfred’s room. He bore plates of pie, cake, pastila, piroshky stuffed with spiced meat and cheese, and several drinks that Alfred could try.

He burst into Alfred’s room, perhaps rude, but on seeing Alfred’s smile, he figured the disruption was very much welcome.

“It smells good,” he scooted to the end of his bed. Ivan placed the tray on his bedside table, passing first the drink filled with poppy. Alfred sniffed at it, then raised a brow. “Is this vodka?”

“Yes. An omega in the kitchen prepared it. She said it helps her a lot. The recipe sounded a lot like yours, though instead of milk, she used alcohol.”

He laughed, then took a sip. The warmth of the liquid quickly spread through his body, and he relaxed. “That’s very strong. How Russian.” Eyeing the rest of the food, he seemed eager to try each item. “What else is there?”

“Try this piroshky. It is meat and cheese, but they used some peppers from America, I think.” Ivan passed him one of the buns. He bit into it, eyes fluttering shut in joy.

“Oh wow, this is so good!” he said between bites. Within seconds, the bun was gone, and he quickly snatched up a second. “The pepper is great, could use a bit more, though.” Ivan had tried the pastry himself while waiting, and was forced to chug a few glasses of milk to tame the inferno on his tongue. Alfred washed down his snack with a large gulp of his drink. “Did you get chocolate, perhaps?”

“Ah, they had only powder, but, if you wait a bit, they’re working on a cake as we speak that I can fetch for you. If you’d like, you can mix the powder with this warmed milk.”

Alfred took the offered cup then poured nearly the entire saucer of cocoa into it. The liquid was thick and required some vigorous stirring, and he was too impatient to wait for it to dissolve fully. He swallowed a large portion, sighing contentedly at the bitter taste.

“Is that good?” Ivan asked. Alfred passed him the drink in response, and Ivan took a sip. He sputtered, some powder having gotten into his nose, then stuck out his tongue at the bitter taste. “God, that’s awful.”

Alfred laughed. He sniffed the air, then froze. Noticing the spice cake, he plucked up the plate and dug in—he was ravenous, Ivan thought, though he at least paused long enough to grab a spoon. He decimated the dessert, then found another bun.

He finished his alcohol with a long pull from the mug, then settled into his pillows.

“Are you feeling better?” Ivan asked. He’d simply watched Alfred’s fevered feast in the end, not wishing to interrupt his focus.

“Much better. Thank you.” A lazy smile graced his face, and he directed it towards Ivan. “You didn’t have to do all this you know.”

He rolled his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I just let you be in pain for days?”

“Friend, you say?” Alfred smirked, looking cocky. Ivan cursed his slip; he hadn’t wanted to sound too sentimental. “Yeah, that’s true. A true friend would help out their friend in any way they could.” He reached out to pat Ivan’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Will you remain in here till your Heat, do you think?”

“It may be best. I hate going out smelling like this. Plus, if I’m just going to be drinking vodka, it may be best for me to keep to myself, lest I embarrass the kingdom.”

Ivan chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the first drunkard monarch in our history. My grandfather was well-known for his long benders. I’ll be sure you’re adequately fed, however. Whatever you need, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Alfred nodded. “I’ll have to prepare my Heat room. They’d just finished cleaning out Ekaterina’s, but I haven’t put any effort into fixing it up.”

“Right. What do you need for that?”

“Oh, I have most of my favorite blankets and pillows from back home, so I should be fine. I have to be the one to do it, anyway, so don’t worry about that.”

“And when your Heat actually does come…” Ivan began. He paused, hoping Alfred would understand his unspoken question.

He did, and he nodded his head. “I think what would be best is for you to give me something of yours for the first day or two, a shirt or something, so I can get used to it. Then, if you’d like, we can be bonded.”

“Are you sure?” Ivan asked. A part of him hoped Alfred would say no; he’d never thought he’d ever turn down an omega wanting to sleep with him, but after having gotten to know Alfred better, taking him in such a carnal way was not appealing to him. Knowing that Alfred would simply want _anything_ filling him, not necessarily Ivan himself… And then, what if Ivan lost control of himself in the moment? He didn’t want to hurt Alfred. He had said himself that in his Heats he wasn’t himself, and, if Ivan were to sleep with Alfred, he’d want them both to be aware of what was going on. He’d come to respect Alfred, and wanted that respect to be present in all parts of their relationship. Were all Heat-induced unions mired in dubious consent, he wondered? Thinking so made him angry as he was reminded of his sisters’ statuses.

“We could wait,” Alfred said.

“What?”

“Till my next Heat. We can wait, if it would make you feel more comfortable.”

“I… Yes, I think that may be best,” Ivan felt embarrassed. What kind of alpha turned down their spouse in their first Heat after marriage? He knew everyone was expecting them to bond. And, now the staff knew that Alfred was in pre-Heat… surely the whole castle would know! How could they fake bonding?

“Whoa, calm down, Ivan,” Alfred whined. Ivan’s stress was affecting him, and he feared his Heat could be induced even sooner because of it.

“I’m sorry,” he fought to reign in his feelings. “Is it weird that I don’t want us to bond during this Heat?”

“I don’t think so. Bonding is a very powerful experience. We’ve only just become friends, after all.”

“They’ll be expecting us to be bonded. They’ll be able to smell that we didn’t.”

“Well, we can bond without the sex.”

“We can?”

“Sure, it’s just a bite, after all. Our scents will mingle enough.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.”

Alfred laughed. “Your education is lacking, Ivan.”

“But, if I bite you… I’ll be in the room with you.”

“And I’m sure I’ll be begging for you to take me. I’m giving you my permission to do so now. I trust you.”

“You do?”

“Of course.”

Ivan sighed. It was a lot of responsibility to bear. “I would like to wait. But, I will come in at some point to mark you.”

Alfred nodded. “Alright. I won’t remember a thing, I’m sure. Good luck dealing with my Heat self,” he laughed. “Have you ever mated?”

He shook his head. “I’ve slept with omegas, but never during Heats. As the prince, I feared any offspring. What about you?”

“No, I haven’t been mated before, for the same reason. Er, well, I guess there was the first time, but that hardly counts as a bond, I don’t think.”

“Right.” Ivan was nervous. He knew his feelings clogging the air would hardly ease Alfred’s own worries, so he kept them at bay.

“I’m sleepy,” Alfred yawned as if to confirm his statement.

“That’ll be the poppy,” he stood, clearing the dishes and a few crumbs from Alfred’s bed. Leaning over, he placed a soft kiss to Alfred’s forehead. He wasn’t sure why he did it, so before Alfred could tease him for it, he turned and fled the room.

The next evening, Ivan received news from Toris that Alfred had entered his Heat. The omega had been well-fed all during the afternoon, as he’d slept the morning away. Ivan had sent a shirt as well as a blanket of his to Alfred’s room, and he only hoped he’d finished setting up his nest before his Heat took him.

Ivan was very distracted in the first few days, and he could only imagine how much more taxing things were on Alfred himself. His father and mother asked why he wasn’t tending to Alfred, and he explained that they’d decided to wait till the third day so that Alfred could get used to his scent. They were a bit confused, as they’d figured with all the time they were already spending together, that Alfred would be used to Ivan by then. Instead of dealing with their questions, Ivan kept to himself, skipping out on meals and even several meetings. He’d hoped that by remaining scarce they’d assume that he was with Alfred, perhaps.

On the fourth day, Ivan made his way to Alfred’s room. Even before entering the Heat room connected to his bedroom, he could smell him. The scent was heavy, and every part of his alpha self demanded that he march in and take the omega immediately. The wing had been under heavy guard by their strongest betas, as was the case whenever any of the royal omegas had gone into Heat, but of course they’d let Ivan pass given his relationship to Alfred.

Upon entering the Heat room, Ivan’s body felt weak. Alfred was quickly upon him, needy hands and tongue lapping at Ivan in all manner of sensual ways. He begged and moaned and, with an impressive show of strength, forced Ivan to join him on his nest of pillows.

Ivan chanted to himself to maintain his composure, which grew increasingly challenging as Alfred ground against him and even fingered himself if only to relief some pressure.

“Ivan,” he whined. “Why won’t you touch me?” There were tears in his eyes, and his sorrow permeated the room, mingling with the smell of sex. “Do you not like me? Please, make me your omega.” His utterances only became more insistent and feverish, till Ivan couldn’t help but shut him up with his lips.

Alfred whined at the touch, though only encouraged more, begging for Ivan to take him. The phrases he used were so distinctly out of character, Ivan noted, and it was that fact that kept Ivan from progressing things. He pulled away from the kiss despite his arousal, growling out loud to voice his frustrations. His husband seemed to think he was growling at him, so the omega shrunk away but still reached out to Ivan.

He took advantage of Alfred’s more timid state, using a harsh tone to speak. “Stay back,” he commanded. “I’m going to mark you. I’m not going to touch you anymore.”

“Why?” he cried, rubbing at his erection. “I need you, Ivan… I need my alpha to fill me, please.”

“Be quiet!” he barked. Alfred whimpered, and Ivan was close to giving in at his sad gaze. Would it be bad to truly bond? Alfred _had_ given him permission.

No, he knew he couldn’t, not then. It would be just as bad as taking an overly drunk or drugged person. Alfred, the collected and witty and always fighting Alfred, had consented, not this person before him.

While Alfred lay, crying at the lack of fulfillment, Ivan bent down, careful not to touch his skin more than necessary. He lay his hands on Alfred’s shoulders and pushed him back. Then, ignoring Alfred’s efforts to connect their lower halves, he pressed forward, clamping down with his teeth a few inches north of Alfred’s clavicle. It was a very visible location, and there was no way anyone would doubt what had happened between them.

Alfred’s moans were a mix of pained and pleasured; Ivan assumed he was confused as to why someone would mark him without first entering him. Blood flowed past Ivan’s lips, and he eventually pulled away, quickly lapping at the open wound. Besides the blood, he could taste Alfred’s sweat, salty and heady on his tongue. He himself groaned at the taste, hips subconsciously bucking at the sensation, though he ceased his movements when he felt Alfred’s legs snaking behind his back.

Summoning all the strength he could muster, Ivan separated them. He stood, shakily at first, then backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it so Alfred couldn’t chase him out.

Knowing he couldn’t very well leave the room smelling as he did, he quickly shed his clothes and made for Alfred’s bathroom. The clean air was good for his senses, and he breathed deeply to clear his head. After a few minutes, he threw on a robe of Alfred’s and walked back to the bedroom then opened the door to the hall. He spotted Toris heading his way with food in hand.

“Toris,” he said simply.

“Oh, Lord Ivan! You’re here!” he quickened his pace and stood before him.

“I need a bath drawn, in here, if you please.”

“Of course, sir. I have some lunch for Lord Alfred, if you’d be able to deliver it.”

“Er, it may be best if you do it. I’ll be in the bathroom. Thank you.” Ivan retreated back into the room most guarded from Alfred’s scent and waited. He hoped Toris would be smart enough to feed Alfred first.

He was, as he entered the bathroom a few minutes later smelling slightly of Alfred. Ivan breathed through his mouth.

“Will you be remaining in this wing for the remainder of Alfred’s Heat?”

“Yes, most likely. It’s more convenient this way so we can avoid any questions from my family.”

“Of course. While you bathe, I can see to cleaning your clothes and fetching some things from your room, if you’d like.”

“That would be best, thank you.”

Toris hummed then set to preparing the bath. Ivan saw steam rising from the water and spoke. “I would prefer a colder bath, if you will.”

“Of course. Are there any scents you prefer? I could go to your room and get your cologne.”

“Just do whatever Alfred usually does, it’s not a big deal.”

“Of course,” while the tub filled, he poured in a generous portion of a floral perfume as well as a thick liquid that turned to bubbles in the churning water. “He’ll be very happy for your decision, you know.”

“Excuse me?” Ivan was surprised at his candidness.

“Alfred, I mean. He may be a bit too embarrassed to talk about it afterwards, but he’ll be happy to know that you only marked him without mating.”

“Do you like working with Alfred?”

“Oh, he’s great! Very kind, with the exception of yesterday, but I can hardly blame him for mood swings.” He shut off the water as it had reached a suitable level. “Do you find him agreeable?”

Ivan wasn’t sure who this servant thought he was asking questions of his superior; he blamed Alfred for encouraging any loquaciousness. “He’s a fine companion to have, if a bit odd at times.”

He chuckled. “He is very different. I’m still getting used to some of the cultural differences, but it’s been very educational. I’m not sure I’ll be well-suited to serve anyone other than him from now on.”

“Then you’d better keep doing a good job. Is my bath ready?”

“Yes, sir, sorry, I got a bit distracted. Take your time, I’ll try to reduce the scent in the bedroom in the meantime. Are you hungry?”

“Yes, have my lunch sent here, please. If anyone asks, let them know I’ll be here till his Heat subsides. I’ll need some of my work brought up, discreetly, if you can. And, I’m sure you know not to blab any unnecessary details of my stay to anyone, right?”

“Of course, Lord Ivan!” he squeaked, jolting himself to his feet to carry out his tasks. Once alone, Ivan shed his borrowed robe and fell into the chilly water; he hardly needed the cold anymore, his arousal having faded in the minutes since he’d left Alfred’s Heat room. He rubbed himself down quickly, testing out some of the soaps kept on the lip of the tub. He recognized some of the scents, but couldn’t figure whether any of them actually had any functions beyond masking Alfred’s natural omega smell. He rubbed an exfoliant of sorts over his shoulders, enjoying the grainy texture against his skin.

After reaching a suitable level of comfort, he rinsed himself then rose. He peeked outside the door, finding the room empty and laden with the smell of cleaning chemicals; while a bit unpleasant, he supposed it was better than the teasing smell of Alfred just one room away.

His clothes had been placed on the bed next to a number of books and parchments that had been previously resting on his desk. He dressed then made himself at home by settling in at Alfred’s own desk, flipping through reports and readings to get himself back in the mindset of work.

He was penning a letter to Ekaterina when Toris reentered. Without a word, he placed Ivan’s meal on an open spot on the table as well as a drink, beer judging by the smell. Ivan nodded his thanks, ready to be left alone again.

Alfred’s Heat only lasted two more days, during which Ivan had spent his time reading and, though he wouldn’t admit it, hiding out in his wing. Toris was his only company, but the omega quickly figured that Ivan wasn’t nearly as talkative as Alfred, so he kept quiet for the most part.  Ivan had enjoyed the peace, at least, though he wished Alfred were around to entertain him. Despite being so close physically, he couldn’t even share any of his thoughts or news with his husband, a luxury he’d grown almost dependent on. He’d thought the week would be frustrating only in a sexual way, but the emotional drain was much more daunting, he found.

Finally the time came for Ivan to clear his things from the room so Alfred could emerge and everything could be washed. Ivan didn’t see him until later that day at dinner, his bonding mark evident against his tanned skin.

Ivan’s father forced him to spend several hours after dinner with him, so he wasn’t even able to visit Alfred as early as he’d wanted. The King insisted that, given his days-long “honeymoon”, he could survive a night without his omega. He’d also given the excuse that Ivan needed to catch up on some events that had transpired during his absence, though he ended up gossiping about inappropriate things for over half of their talk.

Still, afterwards, though the hour was late, he ventured to the omega’s wing, ignoring a number of pointed stares from several guards. He knocked on Alfred’s door, but received no answer. Figuring it would be alright for him to do so, he entered, but immediately noted that the room’s primary occupant was absent. He tested the air, inhaling deeply, but couldn’t smell anything—the Heat room was no longer releasing such an alluring scent, thankfully.

He retreated to his room, and upon arrival, the mystery of Alfred’s location was solved. In the dim light, he barely made out Alfred’s form curled up on his bed, blankets rising and falling at an even rate. Ivan shed his coat and slippers before plopping down on the bed himself, carefully so as not to wake Alfred. It was to no avail, however, as the omega turned toward him and his eyes fluttered open.

“You’ve got the wrong room,” Ivan noted.

“I must’ve gotten lost,” he laughed. He yawned lightly, presumably still exhausted from his week. His voice was hoarse, too, and Ivan flushed at the memory of his moans and cries. “Thank you, by the way, for following through.”

Ivan only nodded. “My pleasure. How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” he pouted. “I think, to make up for my infrequent Heats, there tends to exist an excruciatingly long period of misery before, during, and after.”

“Do you remember much?”

He shook his head. “Not really. God, I’m sure I was a pain, though.”

“You were as expected, I suppose.”

He sighed. “Do you think less of me?”

“For someone who doesn’t care what people think of you, you sure care what people think of you.”

He poked Ivan’s chest lightly. “I do care, but, well, only about people who are important to me. Random people… I don’t mind if they think I’m weird or brash or awful or anything. But, you’re my friend. My family, now. Of course I want you to like me.”

Ivan shifted so they were close, and Alfred instinctively snuggled against his chest. “Don’t worry. I like you well enough.”

“That’s good.”

“Now go to bed, you sound exhausted.”

“I’m sure I look like shit, too.”

Ivan laughed. “I don’t think that’s even possible.”

“So many compliments from my alpha. And here everyone said you were nothing more than a cold bastard.”

“Who said that? I’ll have them killed.”

“I’m only teasing. Besides, if anyone offended you too greatly, I’d be sure to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“What kind of alpha is defended by his own omega?” Such words from Ivan a few months ago would’ve earned a glare form Alfred, but as it was, the younger man knew his husband was only teasing.

“The best kind of alpha, of course.” He placed a single kiss against Ivan’s clothed chest. “Goodnight, Ivan.”

“Goodnight, Alfred.”

* * *

 

It may have been just over a year after their marriage that Ivan found himself with a niggling want to seduce his husband. Unfortunately, he came to this realization during a trip abroad, inconvenient since Ivan was in China while Alfred was still back in Russ.

The local Emperor, Yao, had been a gracious host—since America had been speaking against the empire’s laws discriminating against omegas, they’d been a bit more generous with their remaining allies as well as more open to changing their current laws.

Ivan was with Yao’s son Kiku in a local marketplace, appreciating three distinct crowns on display. His visit had been during a festival marking the start of summer, and the streets were flooded with vendors, most selling fatty food that he wished could survive the long trip back to Russ as he knew Alfred much preferred the denser foods dripping with grease and spices over the lighter fair his home cooks crafted. Some also showed off finer, more enduring wares, such as silken robes and jewelry. He’d already picked up a number of pieces that he could vividly picture Alfred showing off, bemoaning the fact that he wasn’t quite positive about the young man’s size, other than that he fit comfortably in his arms when they slept. He’d return home just in time for Alfred’s birthday, and while the omega was hardly needing for clothes, Ivan knew how much he loved receiving gifts, as he’d found out months before. He’d purchased a pair of sapphire earrings that reminded him of one of Alfred’s favorite coats and made them a spontaneous gift; he’d expected a simple “thank you”, but instead he got his own gift in the form of an extremely flustered Alfred who, after clumsily replacing his earrings with the new ones, had placed a long-lasting kiss to Ivan’s lips. He’d quickly shooed Ivan away, though, clearly embarrassed, and they hadn’t spoken of it since.

In addition to the new robes, slippers, teas, cuffs, and even a large lacquered jewelry box almost as tall as Alfred where he could potentially store a small fraction of his possessions, Ivan just knew he had to get Alfred one of the crowns before him. They were each made of shells, amazingly enough, but crafted in such a way that they appeared more precious than gold.

“Lord Ivan?” Kiku asked. “You’ve been spending a lot of time looking at these. Are you interested?” They’d already sent several attendants back three times to the castle with the items purchased during their shopping spree. “I must say, I didn’t think you’d be so interested in our fashion.”

“Oh, it’s not for me,” he began. He looked to the vendor who seemed very glad to have caught the attention of a passing nobleman. “May I?” he asked, gesturing toward the first crown.

She nodded her approval. Ivan hoisted the heavy headpiece with care, appreciating the detail.

“Who is it for?” Kiku asked.

“My husband. He is very fond of unique pieces.”

“Ah, that is kind of you to think of him.”

“Is it?” He set down the crown and took up the second one. They were similar, but his trained eye—trained by Alfred, no doubt—could detect a number of differences. The first one would be better suited in the summer, he knew, and the second, for Alfred’s preferred autumn clothes.

“I’m sure your family will appreciate that you thought of them.”

“My family?” he laughed. “Oh, no. These have all been for Alfred. Should I buy something for my relatives, do you think? I don’t see the point.”

“Oh, I apologize. I’d figured that since you’d been buying women’s clothes…”

“Alfred’s rather eccentric in his dress. He’ll love it. Could you tell this woman that I’ll take all three of them? And—oh, what’s that in the back?” he pointed toward a luxurious white cloak. “I want that, too.”

“It’ll be expensive,” Kiku guessed. “It looks like arctic seal fur.”

“Perfect. Alfred spilled wine on his winter coat before I’d left. Thankfully he just dyed the whole thing to match, but he’s needed a new white coat.”

“Alright, if you insist,” Kiku said. He turned to the vendor and told her the good news, and she quickly set to wrapping up the trinkets so as to avoid any damage on Ivan’s long journey home. “Have you gotten anything for yourself?”

“I’m afraid not. Ah, what are they selling over there?” he pointed to the neighboring stall. He threw down enough change for his purchase then let a servant, just returned from their last trip, deal with the new items. Kiku sighed, following after him.

It was during this trip that Ivan, mulling over Kiku’s confusion, questioned himself—why _was_ he so focused on Alfred’s happiness?  he wondered. He momentarily thought that he only wanted his husband to look wealthy and worldly so as to mark Russ as a cultural center in its own right, but he knew that was far from the truth.

For the remainder of his trip, delayed due to the fact that they had to arrange for a second and third carriage to carry all the gifts, he was troubled with his thoughts. He came to a conclusion that intimidated him, but chose to keep it in the back of his mind till it became more pressing.

Upon his arrival, with Alfred bouncing up to him and throwing his arms around his neck before Ivan could even step down, the thought came to his attention even stronger than it had been when first proposed.

“Did you bring back an army with you?” Alfred joked on noticing the extra trunks and carriages.

“Not quite,” he chuckled. “Just some gifts for my favorite husband.”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “I hope you mean me and not that you’ve been keeping a harem hidden from me.”

“I mean you.” Alfred finally eased up on his hold, allowing Ivan to take the last step to the ground. They linked arms and turned toward the castle. “Do you want your gifts now? Or will you wait for your birthday?”

Judging by Alfred’s antsy looks back over his shoulder, Ivan figured he’d choose the former option. Instead, he surprised Ivan with a kiss on the cheek and a blinding grin. “Well, you’re my gift for today, so it’d be selfish of me to ask for anything else. What’s a week of waiting?”

Ivan flushed, cursing his luck. Was it pathetic of him to be falling in love with his husband and, dare he say it, his best friend?

While Alfred babbled about the upcoming visit of Matthew, Ekaterina, and their young son, Ivan smiled contentedly.

It was far from pathetic, he knew. It was sentimental, sure, but perfectly logical.

It was perfect.

* * *

Ivan wasn’t the only one experiencing new and more positive feelings in regard to his husband. While Alfred, outgoing as he was, had made many a friend since moving to Russ, he valued Ivan’s friendship above the others. When his alpha was gone—“for a whole month?” he’d whined frequently to Toris—he was notably more somber. Sure, he chatted with the other omegas in the palace and kept up his regular schedule as was expected of him, but behind closed doors, he would brood and huff like a jilted lover. He missed Ivan, missed the hours they’d spend just talking or, on occasion, holding each other chastely. Given his age, it was all very innocent, he knew, but he hardly thought it strange.

Just a day after his birthday—he was still struggling to find room for all of his new clothes—Ivan asked him to join him on a picnic.

“A picnic?” he’d smiled up at Toris after he’d delivered the small letter bearing the request. “Oh, that’s sweet, isn’t it?”

Toris nodded. “You two seem smitten.”

Alfred blushed. “Don’t be silly.”

“Maybe he’ll ask you to court him,” Toris teased.

“We’re married,” Alfred rolled his eyes. Still, he wouldn’t leave his room till he’d picked a suitable outfit, one that utilized as many of Ivan’s gifts as possible while remaining fashionable and that also gave off an air of “court-able”, as he described the uncharacteristically modest ensemble.

He rode out to meet Ivan at the appointed spot, a peaceful hill just at the edge of the manor’s woods. He tied up his horse near Ivan’s own animal, a ridiculously large beast that refused any other rider besides Ivan. The two horses nuzzled next to each other, their own relationship having blossomed during Ivan’s absence, apparently.

“Good afternoon, Alfred,” Ivan smiled at his husband, guiding toward a simple blanket bearing plated sandwiches and fruits. “It’s not a lot, I know. I may end up going to the kitchens afterwards, to be honest. You look nice.”

Alfred smiled. In addition to the physical gifts, Ivan had also become more open in giving compliments to Alfred, and not just about his appearance—which made him swoon—but he also made a point to speak to his humor, his intelligence, and his morals. He’d made sure to keep all the letters he’d received during their month apart, as Ivan’s shyness didn’t have as much power when his words were given via his quill rather than his mouth.

“Thank you. I brought that proposal you’d written to me about. If you don’t mind, I’d like to suggest some changes to the content; if you brought it to your father, I’m sure he’d find it acceptable.”

“Oh, thank you,” he accepted the stack, the printed words marred by numerous quill marks. “This had been distracting me, I appreciate the help,” he smiled.

Tucking into their lunch, Alfred caught Ivan up on his day. It had only been a few hours since they’d seen each other, sharing pastries in bed, as it was, but he still had a lot to say, as he often did. Ivan tried to listen, but his distracted air was evident to his husband.

“Is anything wrong?” Alfred asked. “You’re not one for outside activities when it’s so warm.”

“Ah, nothing’s wrong. Sorry, I don’t mean to seem like I’m not listening.”

He waved his hand. “I know I can prattle on. Tell me, why’d you invite me out here?”

He shrugged. “Can’t a man treat his husband every once in a while?”

Alfred laughed. “We’re treated so well, already. We are princes, you know.”

“Of course. I… I thought it would be nice.”

Alfred reached out, taking Ivan’s hand in his own. “It is. Thank you. It’s nice to have some privacy every once in a while. I only see you at meals or when it’s time for bed, and by then we’re usually too exhausted to speak.”

Ivan nodded. “I also wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath, though he couldn’t understand why he was so nervous. He felt them close enough that he could gauge Alfred’s emotions adequately. There was no indication that Alfred would reject his proposal, but his heart still was guarded. Perhaps love was making him illogical—he shook away the thought; there was nothing negative about the emotion, he knew, even if making himself vulnerable was daunting.

He slipped his free hand into his pocket, fiddled with the small chain hidden there, then withdrew the jewelry.

“What’s this?” Alfred asked, already grinning. “Another gift? You’re spoiling me, Ivan.”

“It is, but it’s a bit… more special.” Alfred took the offered present, fiddling with the clasp. He must have recognized its age, as he treated it with a bit more respect than he would a newer piece. “It is an old family heirloom, from before my family took the throne.”

Alfred’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s _really_ old!”

Ivan nodded. “I was surprised to have stumbled across it, actually, and that it was kept in such good conditions. Anyway, it’s a traditional courting necklace. Back in the day, the courtship ritual in this land was very simple, meant to be between the pair rather than a contract between their families. Typically, the alpha would begin the courtship by presenting game or crops. Then, if interested, the omega would present a small, delicate thing such as this to show that they were capable of crafting beautiful things.

“I know of course that these roles don’t mean much to you, and I completely respect that. But, I wanted to give you something to symbolize this, anyway. Alfred,” he turned to face his husband. “May I request your permission to court you?”

His grin was blinding, and he launched himself forward, capturing his mate in a crushing hug. “Of course, Ivan!” They held on for a minute, then Alfred pulled away. “Don’t think you’ll be doing all the wooing, however. I can certainly be a romantic if I put my mind to it!”

He chuckled. Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss to Alfred’s forehead, smiling all the while.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

 

END


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